Don't Let Me Go
by KellyLovesR5
Summary: "Now, I've been through too much. I've seen and heard and felt too much. He's out with her again and it breaks me for quite possibly the last time." -Harry attempts suicide to get over Louis.- Happy ending! WARNING: MAY BE A TRIGGER FOR SOME. READ WITH CAUTION. Larry Stylinson. One-shot. Requested by @niaxllriver on Twitter. Based on a true story.


**Don't Let Me Go**

**A Larry Stylinson Fan Fiction**

_Now you were standing there, right in front of me. I hold on; it's getting harder to breathe._

I struggle to hold you, but you're just so much bigger than me. You're so broken, so feeble, and yet, you're the only thing that keeps me grounded. These past two years have been hell, and I know every night that they have been worse on you than they have on me. I try not to notice when you clench your fists just a little tighter at the mention of her name. I know it hurts. It hurts me, too. But please, _please…_ don't go, Harry. I don't know what I'd do without you.

_All of a sudden, these lights are blinding me. I never noticed how bright they would be._

I rounded into the office without the slightest idea of why I was there. I saw Louis seated there, and he rubbed my hand as I sat down next to him. The next few minutes, I have blocked from my memory as much as possible. But, I don't think I'll ever forget that empty feeling in my stomach and the words, "You can't be with him."

_I saw in the corner there is a photograph. No doubt in my mind it's a picture of you. It lies there alone in its bed of broken glass. This bed was never made for two._

Now, I've been through too much. I've seen and heard and felt too much. He's out with her again and it breaks me for quite possibly the last time. I've thrown our framed picture off of the bedside table, and it stares at me. We look so happy there, but all of that happiness is long gone now. Sometimes, I think that I can make it with him, but other times, it's as if he's happy with her; content to live a lie so long as the money is good.

The knife near where the picture once stood seems to bring a quiet repose. It isn't the first time I've turned to it when Louis wasn't there, but I want it to be the last. I'm driven to insanity, and I'm just to the point of believing that enough really isn't enough. He's gone now and the only things I have are some empty words, an empty heart and some matching tattoos. "I can't change," "I love you," "Won't stop 'till we surrender…" It all seems pointless now. I was never as _brave_ as I had wanted to be.

_I'll keep my eyes wide open. I'll keep my arms wide open. _

"Harry, no!"

I'm crying now as I hold him. Trying so hard to make him believe it's worth all of the pain. We're worth it, I know we are. I should have seen the signs. I should have known that he was hurting just a little more today. I would have held him tighter if I had known. I would have pulled him back into bed and told him not to get up. Now, I'll never let him go. He's too perfect and he means too much and I just love him too much to ever stop. His tattoos mean more than just the words to me. I'll never stop watching him now, making sure that he's okay. I'll hold him tighter every night, one more squeeze for every fake hand-lock with her. "Won't stop 'till we surrender" has never meant more.

_Don't let me go. 'Cause I'm tired of feeling alone._

I don't know what to do anymore. Louis is holding me and we're on this ledge and damnit, I just want to let go, but I can't because he's here and he smells like vanilla instead of her and he's crying because I came so close to jumping.

I'm so ashamed now, but I still can't fight the feeling that our love will never be all that I want it to be. I'm begging him to stay, because I know that I can't live if he doesn't. "Don't let go, Lou," I tell him. "Never, Harry," he promises. He kisses my lips and that's what pulls me over the edge, back into the world for just a little longer. I think that maybe he means it, that he'll never let go. It helps a little bit as he yanks me over the high railing and back down to the streets below. We're going home now, but loving him really feels more like drowning.

_Don't let me go. 'Cause I'm tired of sleeping alone._

She went home today, content to skip the Starbucks if it meant getting home for a nap. She didn't care about me. She had never cared about me. All that mattered was the modesty and the money. I don't hate her, but I hate what this does to Harry. He's bloody when I get him home, and I'm thankful that no paparazzi have spotted us on the way here. I let him shower, and I'm immediately pulling him into bed when he gets out. I feel like a monkey now, holding him here against our pillows with my legs and arms wrapped around him and my hands all buried in his curls. But, it's right where I want to be: lost in his scent and the warmth of his breath as it trails down my skin. He's perfect, and I just wish that he could see it. He sighed happily when I pulled him into me, and tonight, it feels less like falling and more like flying.


End file.
